


When Two Become One

by locusdesperatus



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Choking, Family Drama, Gang Rape, Hand Jobs, Healing Sex, Incest, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, Mystery, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not a Happy Story, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Power Dynamics, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Sex Toys, Sharing, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: Leon gets a voicemail that rockets him into the past, reconnecting him with someone he thought he'd lost years ago. Ultimately, they're both in danger, and he has to figure out how to get them to safety before the damage done becomes irreparable.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Derek C. Simmons, Leon S. Kennedy/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. The Message

_Um- Listen, I- I don't know when you'll get this, or if you'll even believe that it's me, but I need your help, Leon. I'm so scared…._

There was a shuffling noise, and a sharp intake of breath followed.

_Shit, I think they're here. I think they found me. They've been tracking me for a while now, and- and I managed to stay hidden, but they're here. They're here._

Loud noises sounded on the recording, indicating that someone was breaking in. Shouting and heavy footsteps came next.

_I knew they'd come, so I hid it in the oven, okay? I- I love you, Leon, I-_

Much louder noises filtered out from the speaker, buzzing and crackling. The caller shouted, yelling out first in anger, and then in pain. The line deadened only a moment later, and the silence was heavier than steel.

Leon stared out the window, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened. The SUV hit a bump in the road, jostling him back into reality. He was on his way into the sticks of Connecticut, where state police had found an old, condemned home that had been ransacked. It matched up with the vague location that they'd traced the call to. He played the voicemail again.

_Leon? It's- it's your brother, Silas. I know we haven't talked in- in, fuck, it's been almost fifteen years, but I think I'm in trouble. They came after me, the government, after what happened to you and I ran. I was doing pretty good until they started looking again, and I think someone tipped them off or something. I've been living in Connecticut, and I've got some of our stuff from when we were kids. Some of mom and dad's stuff.  
I don't know what they want from me, but I don't think they're gonna be friendly, and I just- I wanted to try and talk to you. I've missed you so much, I-" _

He shut it off, fighting the squirming, cold queasiness in his stomach. 

Silas. His twin brother. His _baby_ brother. 

_By a whole sixteen minutes!_ The angry, childish plea sounded so natural in Silas' voice. They'd always been close, practically joined at the hip up until high school. At that point, their interests had shifted further and further apart, pushing Leon towards the academy and Silas towards geology and the sciences. Make no mistake, when his brother went off to college, he'd been excited for him, but during his first few weeks alone, he'd missed him terribly. 

Separation anxiety. 

That was what the doctors had called it. Silas had it, too. After their mom and dad had passed away, they'd only had each other, and their already close bond became nigh unbreakable. They'd been happy for a while, resorting to writing each other letters almost every day in order to keep in contact. They had both been much too broke to own a cell phone, but being pen pals was just as good. Leon saved everything that Silas had written him, keeping it tucked away in a box that now sat in the closet of his apartment. 

Raccoon City had been the metaphorical nail in the coffin. He'd been completely cut off, torn away from his only remaining family. The men that had interrogated him had asked questions about Silas, but he had tried not to give them anything concrete. He wouldn't hurt his brother like that. Strangely, they'd never mentioned it again, but apparently the damage had been done. 

Leon hadn't spoken to his brother in fourteen years, until he'd gotten the voicemail. He'd been out of the country on a mission, coming back a few days after the timestamp in his call log. What a shitty way to kickstart their reunion. Silas was in trouble, and he hadn't been around to help him. 

"We're here." The sheriff said. 

Leon got out of the car, his nerves flaring up. He didn't know what he was about to see, and that scared him. 

"The whole place was ransacked, but I don't think there was much here to begin with." The sheriff explained, walking him up to the door. "I had my guys search through the surrounding property, and we found some tire tracks, but not much else." 

"Was there anything inside the oven?" Leon asked. 

"Yeah, an old photo album. Some of the guys wanted to book it into evidence, but I pulled it aside when I heard you were coming out. I thought it should stay with you." The sheriff unlocked the front door, ducking under the crime scene tape. "It's in my office, we'll stop by and grab it before I drop you at the rental agency." 

"Thank you." Leon followed him into the house. He looked around, some sort of pit welling up in his stomach as he took in the rot and decay. It was obviously lived in- canned food and bottled water had been squirreled away inside the kitchen. The only thing in the entryway that wasn't covered in dust was a bicycle, an older one with a little basket on the front. 

"Some locals said they saw him from time to time, biking around town. They all said that he was the most polite man they've ever met." The sheriff said, following his gaze. 

"Yeah, that's Silas." Leon smiled to himself. He walked through the rest of the floor, coming into the living room. An old, busted tv sat on the floor, knocked over from the stack of newspapers that it had been resting on. The couch was old and stained, a spring or two poking out of the ancient upholstery. 

"This is what I wanted you to see." 

Leon looked up, his eyes widening as the sheriff motioned to the far wall. It was covered in newspaper clippings and photos, handwritten notes pasted between scores of highlighter marks and cliche bits of red string. 

"Holy shit." He breathed out. Everything was related to him, swirling around his missions and promotions, anything that had been made public by the DSO or Stratcom. There were articles on Raccoon City beside articles about South America and the missing girls. Then came pictures of Ashley Graham and the front page stories talking about her kidnapping and rescue. There were even a few Spanish articles talking about the incident. Harvardville was next, pictures of Senator Ron Davis strung up beside some additional shots of the WilPharma lab. 

"He kept tabs on me." Leon stepped forward. There was a single, grainy photo that was more worn than the rest. It sat on the bookshelf, a place of honor amid all the chaos.  
When he'd gotten out of quarantine from Spain, there had been a slough of paparazzi waiting for him. How they knew about his location and his involvement with the Graham's still remained a mystery, but he'd managed to slip away- mostly. 

Apparently, there had been one photo that was usable, a shot of him turning his head to hide beneath the shadow of his arm. His face was relaxed, halfway into a playful smile as he ducked away from the cameras. Leon flipped it over, determined not to let his emotions get the better of him. On the back, in Silas' neat script, was the date, his name, and the words "big brother". 

"There's a few things upstairs." The sheriff said. "Some blankets, a couple magazines, and some books. I don't know if you'd want to see those, too." 

"Yes, please." Leon tucked the photo into the pocket of his jacket. "How long do we have?" 

"The evidence team is about a half hour behind us. They'll take down all the stuff he collected and bring it to the station. After that, the entire place has to be torn down. The whole structure is rotten." 

"I understand." He glanced around, his heart breaking more and more as he pictured his brother living in the squalor and filth. "I wish I could've…" 

"I know you do, son." 

  
  


Leon spent the rest of the day numb, picking through Silas' meager belongings and boxing up whatever seemed important. The musty, worn out clothes stayed in the house, he'd be damned if he let his brother wear unwashed socks ever again. As soon as he found him, he was going to start taking care of him. It would be just like when they were kids. 

If he found him. There wasn't much to go on. 

His mouth set in a grim line, seemingly determined to stay that way. 

  
  


The hotel room was cozy, much more accommodating than the usual rundown dumps that the government put him in. Small towns were like that. Leon set the scrapbook down on the bed, his other hand busy with the food he'd picked up on the way back from the rental agency. It was a burger and fries from a local place, somewhere the sheriff had recommended. As he bit into it, he had to admit that it wasn't half bad. They'd seen him with the sheriff, so they knew he was an agent, which had led to them giving him a strawberry milkshake on the house and cementing their image as the most lovely people he'd ever met. The owner, an older lady with dyed-red hair and matching lipstick, asked if he knew Silas almost as soon as he got in the door. From what she told him, the younger Kennedy had taken to helping her clean up after rowdy locals came through, and in turn, she would give him some food and other necessities. 

He thanked her for her kindness and made sure to leave a generous tip. 

It was obvious to him that no one from town had ill will towards Silas, which meant that whomever had taken him was more than likely working in an official capacity. He just couldn't figure out _why._ His brother was harmless, just trying to lay low and survive on his own. It didn't make any sense. 

Leon scarfed down the rest of his meal, hungry after spending so long brooding and anxious. He took another sip of his milkshake as he curled up with the scrapbook. It had been a long time since he'd seen these photos. The first page was filled with pictures of his parents, Hank and Joanne, as teenagers. They had been high school sweethearts, and had gotten married shortly after Joanne's 23rd birthday. Leon flipped to the wedding photos, running his fingers over the picture of his mom in her dress. She looked stunning, just like she always had. He turned the page, smiling at the next set of images. They were singed around the edges, and slightly warped with water damage, but the memories were still intact. His parents smiled proudly as they stood in front of their house, the one Leon and Silas had grown up in. It was a cute little two story, nestled in the suburbs. With a white picket fence, small garden, and a hatchback parked out front, they had it all. 

The next few pages were filled with baby photos, cute posed images where Leon and Silas were sleeping cuddled up or holding hands. He had to admit, they had been incredibly precious. All the matching outfits helped, mostly hand sewn by his grandma. She was holding the two of them in one photo, a big smile on her face. She had loved them dearly, that much was evident. 

Leon flipped through the pages reverently, tracing his fingers over his favorite snapshots. There were a couple photos from the camping trips that Dad had taken them on, times when they'd spent the weekend learning to fish and cook over a fire. It hadn't really stuck, he wasn't a big fan of roughing it, but it was still nice to recall. He remembered Silas accidentally stabbing himself with a fishing hook and crying as Dad bandaged him up. Leon had been so jealous of the attention his brother had gotten that he'd tried to prick himself and ended up needing to go to the hospital for stitches. He chuckled, taking another sip of his milkshake. He'd always been a little brat. 

The scrapbook ended abruptly by the time they were about ten, cut off in a flurry of ash and seared plastic. Silas had clearly tried to maintain the original binding, but it was starting to fall apart and crack around the edges. The old book needed some love, but it was something they could fix together. 

Unlike the death of their parents, which was something they'd mourned for years and years. Leon tried not to think too hard about it, already overwhelmed. Perhaps if he hadn't been fresh off a mission and jet lagged as all hell, he could've handled the emotions behind the scrapbook, but unfortunately, he was so tired that he could do little else besides set his empty cup on the nightstand and slump over, cradling the book to his chest as he nodded off. 

  
  


He slept fitfully, as he always did, thrashing around and groaning as he fought with invisible beasts. They never left him alone, not for long. In his dreams, he was their plaything, and no matter what he tried, he couldn't stop the night terrors from stealing away his much needed rest. 

  
  


It took four cups of coffee to stir him from his groggy daze, still fighting the effects of his international flight. It was going to be a long while before he would be able to catch up on shut eye, if he even got the chance. Grumbling to himself, he poured the last of the pot into his travel mug and doused it in creamer. 

He was supposed to be meeting the sheriff at the local library, where Silas had spent most of his time. Leon walked out to his car, fumbling with the keys. He regretted not paying attention to the rental agent.  
Finally, the vehicle clicked open, and he settled into the driver's seat before starting it up. The SUV was a lot nicer than his four door back home. With his driving record, he didn't bother to get a new car, and his little blue sedan had scratches and dings from tip to toe. This was shiny and well taken care of, with leather upholstery and seat warmers. Leon was much too distracted for this sort of luxury. Maybe someday, when his primary concern wasn't staying alive, then he'd be able to indulge himself in a nice car. 

Blue and red flashes suddenly bounced off the rearview mirror, bathing the car in light and surprising him enough that he spilled his coffee. 

"Shit!" He pulled over, dabbing at the wet spot on his slacks. To his chagrin, an officer walked towards his door, hand on his gun. Leon sighed, rolling down the window and putting his hands on the steering wheel. 

"Good morning." The officer said gruffly. "License and registration. Do you know why I pulled you over?" 

"No." Leon handed over the information. Curiously, the officer didn't have a name badge or any identifying marks. Alarm bells started to go off, and he itched to reach for his gun. 

"Do you have any weapons on you?" 

_Shit._

"Yes. You have my ID, I'm a government agent." 

"Step out of the car, please." 

Leon obeyed, anxiety creeping up his spine. He didn't like this at all. 

"Sir, why am I-" 

"I'm detaining you because of your reckless driving. Turn around-" 

"Hey, what the hell!" Leon protested. "That's not how an-" 

Blinding pain shot through him, and he fell to the ground, gasping for air like a fish out of water. He'd been tased before, but there was never any real way to get used to it. His body twitched and tensed without his permission, working the last of the spasms from his muscles. He was dimly aware of handcuffs being locked around his wrists, and weakly tried to fight back. 

"I don't think you want me to tase you again, Agent Kennedy." The officer warned. He had his knee on the small of Leon's back, pinning him to the asphalt. "Hold still." 

Something sharp slid into the skin of Leon's neck, setting off an additional round of alarm bells. This was really happening, then. He was really being kidnapped. Footsteps sounded from behind them, and even though he knew it was fruitless, he half-hoped the newcomer would be his rescuer. Instead, he was hauled to his feet and dragged towards the patrol car- or rather, the SUV with a light bar and no decals, _how_ could he have been that stupid- and shoved roughly into the backseat. 

His head was swimming, lolling against his shoulder and causing him to slump over until he was flat on the back bench. 

At least he'd finally be getting some sleep. 


	2. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens

The throbbing in his head woke him. It was dull and warm, spreading out from the base of his skull and tickling the backs of his ears. Leon groaned, rolling onto his side and attempting to take stock of himself. He was tied up, though not with the handcuffs from the fake officer. Simple rope bound his wrists, tight enough that it wouldn't budge. There was something around his neck, a collar of some kind. He didn't like that. He didn't like that at all.

After his eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, he began to pick out details, a twin sized bed, a rickety table and two chairs, a door that he guessed led to a bathroom, and a row of steel bars that turned the whole room into a cell. The cement floor was cold beneath him, and the chill had settled into his skin, making him shiver. Someone had undressed him, leaving only his boxers intact. It was probably just another fear tactic, he told himself, just another way to make him uncomfortable.

The bars rattled, the door sliding open mechanically. Leon raised his head, and a thousand emotions ran through him, confusion managing to surface above all the others. 

"Simmons?" He sputtered, fidgeting in his bonds. "What is this-"

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" The Security Advisor interrupted him. He walked closer, his polished shoes clacking on the floor. "Last I saw, you were flaunting that stupid dye job to one of the secretaries."

"I wasn't-"

"Shut up." Simmons waved his hand. "I really don't care." He knelt down, threading his fingers through soft, auburn bangs. "Were you hoping that getting rid of the blond would make you look less like a bimbo?" 

"What?" Leon couldn't help the way his voice cracked. He yelled out in alarm when Simmons pulled him backwards, maneuvering him like a doll until he was on his knees with his cheek pressed against the cold floor. "What are you- Hey!" He began to struggle when Simmons pulled his boxers down, grabbing greedy, scathing handfuls of his ass along the way. 

"This was what I always had in mind for you." Simmons hissed. "You were always so desperate to play nice, so _accommodating_ that it made me sick." He pressed his body flush against Leon's, grinding his half-hard cock against trembling skin. 

"Don't-" 

"Or what?"

Leon screwed his mouth shut, his eyes following suit when his silence was mistaken for obedience. Sharp nails pinched him as they wandered his body, digging into his pecs and tugging on them until they reddened. His skin crawled as Simmons continued to grope him, skating his fingers over lean muscle and the soft bits that Leon had slacked off on exercising. He wasn't quite as dedicated to fitness as he had been when he had first joined Stratcom, and his drinking habit had given him a bit of a beer belly. Simmons didn't seem to mind. He leaned back, and for the briefest of moments, Leon thought he was going to be spared. Instead, two long, thin fingers pushed inside of him, making him yell out. He struggled fruitlessly, attempting to kick his way to freedom.

"Simmons!" He barked out in embarrassment.

"Hush." The older man growled. He was mechanical in the way he stretched Leon, bordering on careless. His nails weren't cut, and they scraped cruelly against delicate flesh until the angle changed and presented his victim with a modicum of relief. It was short lived, unfortunately. Leon grit his teeth when a third finger was shoved in next to the other two, forcing his body open. He opened his mouth to scream silently into the floor as Simmons stretched all three fingers wide. No one had ever treated him this roughly during sex. 

"You're getting hard, enjoying yourself?"

His words were like poison. Leon clenched his hands, willing himself to focus on breathing and his future murder plans. Oh, he was definitely going to kill Simmons when he got out of this.

"Fuck you." He hissed out, overcome by anger. He didn't understand why. Why did Simmons have him kidnapped, was it all a ruse? Was this some sort of fucked up training? He'd been through the pentagon's sexual assault prepardness course already, and could solemnly vouch that it did fuck all to prepare you for the real thing.

This didn't seem fake, however. And they wouldn't have- not when he was in the middle of something so important. He just couldn't figure out what the end game was. Why was Simmons doing this? Where was Silas?

"Ngh!" Leon bit down on his lower lip when something hot and blunt pushed up against him. He opened his eyes to bore holes into the concrete with his blank stare, focusing on relaxing so the intrusion wouldn't split him open. It had been way too long since he'd let someone touch him this way, his body wasn't used to it. He'd had flings- plenty of them- in Stratcom, but they had been all sly blowjobs and secret kisses. Except Krauser, he had been the first and the last to coerce Leon into actual, vulnerable sex. Look where that had gotten them. 

His body was panicking. Even though his brain was strangely calm, his legs were beginning to tremble from the strain of holding himself up. This seemed to displease his captor, who wrestled him over to lean against the cot before burying his cock back into the tight heat of his body. It didn't burn any less the second time. Leon buried his face in the starchy bedsheets, desperate to muffle any noises that wanted to escape him. He wouldn't give Simmons the satisfaction of making him scream. 

"Shit, you really are tight."

The bastard seemed to be enjoying himself, easing his cock in and out at a brutally slow pace. He was savoring the way Leon's body clung to him, no doubt. Methodical and languid, he held onto shapely hips and buried himself deep inside of that welcoming warmth. It was harder for Leon to block it out when each thrust dragged across his prostate, forcing him to feel every disgusting inch. He wanted to claw his way free, to kick and scream, but he couldn't, not with how thoroughly pinned he was. Every instinct in him begged for a chance to fight. That was what he was good at, that was how he usually got out of these situations. Knowing exactly how _weak_ he was made it so much worse. 

"What- hah!" He cursed himself when a sharper thrust made him groan. "What did you- did you do with- ngh!- Silas?"   
It was a shot in the dark, but all signs seemed to point towards Simmons having orchestrated the whole thing and Leon's scrambled brain couldn't come up with any other possible explanation.

"Silas?" Simmons asked innocently. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Did my men hit you a little too hard?" 

"Shut up, I know you took him!" Leon snapped. "I- Ah! No!" He twisted his wrists desperately as he was shoved into the sparse mattress, his hips bruising from Simmons' grip. One boney, unforgiving hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, grinding his face into the sheets. The pace quickly turned brutal, punching the air out of his lungs as he fought to keep himself from being smothered. He told himself that he wouldn't cry. He was too old to shed tears like this, too old to give into that awful, burning despair coiling up inside him. 

Or was he.

He grit his teeth as he felt his diaphragm clench, the softer organs hardwired to his heart and not his brain. Logically, he didn't want to give Simmons the satisfaction of making him tear up, but emotionally, he was more than ready to snap. Unbidden, his despair spilled over, leaving salty tracks down his cheeks. He was glad that Simmons was too busy chasing his own pleasure to pay attention to the way his captive's breathing hitched. Leon was sure he'd be ridiculed when it all finally stopped, when he was left alone to rot in this god-forsaken cell, but until then, he could let the tears soak into the sheets. 

To make it all worse, he was still hard. His body still wanted it, craved the way each stroke rubbed up against all his sweet spots. He could cry and struggle all he wanted, but he couldn't hide the way precum dripped from the head of his cock. The way pleasure mixed with shame and anger made his stomach turn, queasy at the idea that some dark, tiny part of his brain enjoyed being held down and fucked into submission.

Abruptly, Simmons shifted, and his cock slid in deeper. The new stretch made Leon yell into the mattress, wholly unprepared for the pain. He held out his bound hands, attempting to push his rapist away. All he managed to do was feel the wiry hair that covered Simmons' belly, revealed by the way his shirt had ridden up. How revolting. 

"Tightening up for me?" Simmons hissed out. "What a generous slut you are." He let go of auburn locks in favor of digging his nails into Leon's hips and leaving long, horrid scratches on pale skin. They burned like fire, itching and crackling with the promise of raised, inflamed skin. It was physical evidence, a mark of ownership, a display of dominance. Simmons wanted to drill it into him that he was nothing but a toy, a warm, wet hole to fuck and play with. 

"Nuh!" Leon arched his back as he was lifted upwards by his hips, putting his backside on display. The new angle was even worse than before, drawing Simmons in until he began to lose his rhythm, distracted by all the sensation and drunk on finally having so much power over the _great_ Leon S. Kennedy. It was still a mystery as to why he was so obsessed with the DSO's top agent, but now that the President's lap dog was in his clutches, he wouldn't be letting him go so easily. 

"-finally… learn your place!" Simmons ground out, snapping his hips forward brutally. He stayed still, freezing up completely in order to make sure that every last drop of his cum was emptied into the trembling body beneath him. When he finally pulled away, Leon tumbled to the floor, his head smacking against the concrete. He didn't move, eyes shut tight as he willed Simmons to leave him alone. Instead, nasty fingers wiped at his cheeks, gathering up the tears there. 

"I always knew you were weak. Benford was a fool to have ever placed his trust in you. And your brother as well. I don't know why he thought you could save him."

"Don't." Leon forced out, his voice shaking just as badly as his body. He twisted his wrists, burning them on the rough rope in desperation. "Leave him out of this."

"I think not." Simmons said. He knelt down, grabbing a fistful of Leon's hair and forcing him to sit up and look him in the eye. "It would do you well to remember that I am in charge, here. Things can go very poorly if you continue to flaunt that snarky, whorish attitude of yours, but if you become a bit more docile, then I will reward you."

"Go fuck yourself." Leon spat at him. He felt a little bit of smug satisfaction creep over him as he watched his saliva ooze down Simmons' cheek. Just as soon as it had come, however, it was gone when he was thrown back against the floor.   
"Huh!" He hiccuped, the air knocked from his lungs. Simmons stood up, wiping his face on his sleeve. There was an alarming grin splitting his mouth in two, his eyes shining with ferocity.

"Fight back all you want, Agent Kennedy. I'll break you yet." He said. His shoes thumped against the concrete as he exited the cell. "I'll see you in the morning. As a show of my generosity, I've decided to let you have some company. Don't make me regret it."

"Company?" Leon asked weakly. He went to roll over, but his whole body protested, aching from the tips of his bangs to his toenails. Stunned from the abuse and loopy from the drugs, he couldn't even pull his boxers up from where they decorated his ankles. He'd almost managed to forget the headache that had awoken him, but now that he wasn't distracted by other, more pressing issues, it was back with a vengeance. It forced him to lie still and do his best to relax. The sweat covering his chest and back began to cool, letting the cold in and intensifying the way he shivered. 

The door opened and closed, making him tense up. Whatever it was, he hoped it would be quick when it killed him. Timid footsteps echoed around the empty space before they abruptly sped up.

"Leon?"

His eyes shot open.

"Leon!" 

Gentle hands touched his arms, tugging on the ropes around his wrists. They ached when they were finally freed, all the blood rushing back in tandem. Leon gasped, involuntarily falling onto his back.

"Silas?" He whispered. Sure enough, his baby brother was hovering over him, looking so much more exhausted than he remembered. To be fair, he knew for a fact that he looked worse. 

"Oh my god." Silas held him for a moment longer, his hands shaking as he brushed Leon's hair away from his face. "Let me- let me- uh-" He set Leon down before helping pull his underwear back into place. "Are you okay?" 

"Not really." Leon admitted. "But I'm better now that I know you're here." 

"Hah." Silas shook his head, hiding a smile. "It's good to see you too." He blinked as a few tears escaped him, torn between being happy to see his brother and feeling horrified at the state he was in. Determined to fix it, he helped Leon over to the bed, settling down so they were cuddled up together. They didn't have much choice- a twin sized mattress wasn't really enough space for two grown men. On the other hand, neither of them minded the closeness after so many years apart. 

"I missed you." Leon felt his words slur more than he heard it. All the adrenaline was leaving him in a wave as he went into shock, clinging to Silas' shirt to try and ground himself. The whole world felt muffled, hidden behind a barrier of exhaustion and aching darkness. It scared him more than he wanted to admit.

"I missed you too." Silas cooed, petting down auburn bangs and pressing gentle kisses to his brother's head. "It's alright, I promise. I'll take care of you. Just relax, we both need to get some rest, right? It'll be just like when we were kids." 

"I can't, I-" Leon burst into tears, his face tucked into the crook of Silas' neck. It had been so long since he'd felt weak. After a few minutes of fighting to catch his breath, he began to focus on the way soft fingers swept across his back, drawing intricate patterns and soothing the way his lungs hiccuped and jumped. Silas was still talking to him, his voice steady and calm.

If he had no other hope in this cell, at least he had his brother.


	3. The Surrender

The sound of the door sliding open made Leon bolt upright. He struggled to untangle himself from the blanket and Silas' arms, nearly falling off the bed in his haste. 

"Hey!" Silas grabbed onto him, stilling him. They huddled together, their breath coming in foggy puffs due to the chill of the room. Leon began to tremble, goosebumps erupting across his bare chest. He looked around frantically as he was pulled into his brother's chest for warmth. Simmons was simply watching them, standing in the doorway. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he almost looked bored.

"Come. Both of you." He ordered.

"Like hell-" Leon began to snarl, stopped when Silas covered his mouth. He wanted to fight and gnash his teeth, but at the same time, he wouldn't endanger his brother. The anger bubbled up inside his chest, rekindling all the emotion he'd forced down the previous night. He itched to get his hands on Simmons and _show_ him what the improvements to their training budget had done for agents trained in CQC. 

"Come on." Silas whispered, nudging him. Leon looked on in disbelief as his brother obediently walked towards the cell door. He followed after a moment, not wanting to be alone again. Silas grabbed onto his wrist, shooting him a warning look as Simmons led them down a long, sterile hallway. Leon did his best to keep up, limping from the rough treatment he'd received. He hated the way that Simmons walked, as if he was on top of the world with his two little pets in tow. They stepped into an elevator, and the confined space made the anger amplify until he was nearing his breaking point. 

"What's the matter?" Simmons asked coyly, his face split wide in a smirk. Leon saw red. He went forward fist first, ignoring Silas begging him not to. He'd always been the headstrong one, the fighter, the one to stand up to the bullies and end up with a broken nose. 

Unfortunately, this wasn't like high school, and he was pinned up against the wall before he could process what was happening. One big, rough hand was wrapped around his throat, squeezing his airway shut as Simmons sneered down at him. Silas was panicking behind them, begging their captor not to hurt him. Leon struggled, gasping for air. He kicked himself for letting his guard down. 

"It seems that I need to teach you some manners." Simmons hissed. "Was last night's lesson not enough? Or are you just that desperate to have your naughty hole filled?" 

Leon shuddered in disgust at the words, choking on nothing. He opened his eyes, staring past Simmons in order to plead for help from his brother. Silas was cowering in the corner, eyes wide in terror as he watched his brother suffocate. He was the shy one, the timid twin who hid behind his big brother and kept his head down. Whenever they'd gotten into fights, Leon had yelled at him for not standing up for himself.

"No!" Silas threw himself forward, crashing into Simmons. Admittedly, he wasn't trained like his brother, and couldn't do any damage, but the surprise was enough to let Leon gasp for air. Simmons snarled, grabbing Silas instead and tossing him into the wall. 

"Realistically," he said, his voice a deep growl. "I should just fucking kill you and be done with it." His boot met Silas' fingers, grinding them into the tile floor.

"No!" The younger Kennedy wailed, curling in on himself.

"Get off of him!" Leon struggled to his feet, his throat raspy and bruised. He lurched forward, only to be shoved up against the wall and out of the way. They were saved from any further punishment by the cheery _ding!_ of the elevator door. All three men stilled for a moment before Simmons seemed to compose himself. He snapped his fingers, pointing to the ground beside him as he walked away. Silas struggled to his feet, cradling his injured hand. It took him a second to catch his breath, but with a guilty look, he trailed after Simmons, who led them into his office. It was large and well-decorated, fancy curtains covering the windows, plush carpets that soothed the ache in Leon's bare feet, and a big, ornate oak desk in the middle. 

By itself, the office seemed normal, until you looked closer and noticed the extra large pet bed beside the office chair and a kennel bolted to the floor in one corner. Both of those things made the twins' skin crawl. They exchanged a nervous glance as they were led over to the desk. 

Simmons pointed expectantly at the dog bed. Silas gave in after a moment's hesitation, cradling his crushed fingers to his chest. He looked up at Leon with a desperate face, terrified of upsetting the madman. To his relief, his brother didn't fight, sitting down beside him. They fidgeted, unsure of where all of this was heading. Simmons stood in front of them, his gaze flicking between them. It was almost as if he was sizing them up, comparing the two as so many had done during their childhood. A wandering hand grazed Leon's left breast, and he recoiled, clenching his jaw in anger.

A sharp slap sent him tumbling sideways, shocking him so badly that he didn't have time to brace himself.

"What the hell!" He snarled. Another hit had his head spinning. 

"You stay _still_ when I touch you, you don't _talk_ unless spoken to. Am I clear?" Simmons barked. He grabbed a fistful of Leon's bangs, dragging him up onto his knees. "I said, am I _clear?_ "

"Yes, fuck!" Leon struggled, trying to pry himself away from the painful ache in his scalp. He fell backwards when he was released, nearly smacking his head on the floor. Simmons moved over to Silas, who was trembling, his eyes wide in fear. Even though he shook, he didn't pull away from roving hands that rubbed across his chest. Leon felt anger boil up inside of him, but he kept quiet this time, scared of what Simmons' reaction would be. He didn't want to see Silas hurt again.

"Good." Simmons walked around the desk, leaving them to sit as he got comfortable and pulled out a stack of papers. Without so much as a second glance, he began to skim through the legalese, fully aware of how confused his pets looked. They were twitching and shifting, obviously uncomfortable without explicit instruction. Delicious.

After a few long minutes where he pretended to ignore them, he unlocked the top drawer of his desk, pulling out two cookies that were shaped suspiciously like dog biscuits. He beckoned the twins closer, pointing at the floor in front of him. Silas crawled forward, catching Leon's arm and tugging him along. They made an attractive heap, their shoulders brushing as they settled down in front of him. 

Simmons tilted Leon's chin up, unsurprised by the anger he saw brewing behind bright, blue eyes. He held out the cookie, forced to hide his amusement when his pet sniffed it distastefully. Leon ate it after rolling his eyes, his lips brushing against Simmons' palm. Silas was next, glancing at his brother before obediently eating the treat. 

Simmons allowed them to fidget for a few more minutes, waiting for his personal concoction to kick in, before picking up the clothing shears he'd strategically placed in his top drawer. He shoved Leon onto his back, already expecting the snarling and fighting that came bubbling up. The shears tore through clothing like paper, leaving him naked and scowling on the ground. Silas trembled as his clothes were removed. He was painfully thin, not filled out and buff like his brother. The neglect and hunger of his adulthood had taken a toll on him. 

"Good." Simmons sat back in his chair, carefully locking away the shears when he saw Leon's eyes magnetize to the potential weapon. If his little pets managed to get the upper hand, they would be absolutely insufferable and all their training would have been for naught. He regarded them carefully, taking in widened pupils and flushed skin. The aphrodisiac was kicking in already. 

"Touch each other." He commanded.

Silence. 

The looks on their faces were worth a thousand words.

" _What?_ " Leon floundered, blinking rapidly. His mouth hung open in a pretty little 'O', pink lips wet with saliva. 

"Kiss him." Simmons said. "You can do it willingly, or I can find a way to force you, the choice is yours." 

"Leon." Silas whimpered. He looked scared, but his face was stained with arousal. Between his legs, his cock sat heavy and flushed, roughly matching his brother's. They were truly a perfect pair. With trembling hands, Leon cupped Silas' cheeks, kissing him softly. They were both upset and possibly even a little revolted, but the jolt of satisfaction that permeated their drug-addled brains made them press closer for more. 

Simmons congratulated himself on turning the once proud Kennedy twins into his personal playthings. 

"Mm." Silas ran his hands over Leon's shoulders, his thumb brushing against the round, soft little scar that broke a swath of perfect skin. He was briefly distracted when he managed to coax himself into straddling his brother's thigh, craving the closeness, but his fingers found the raised tissue again, worrying it gently. 

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Simmons cooed, watching them kiss a little deeper and a little slower. Their hips were making aborted, jerky little movements, desperate to grind on each other. The chemicals he'd chosen broke down quickly, but they were exceptionally strong. If the twins managed to stave off their lust, he would be genuinely impressed. 

That didn't seem likely, however, not with the way Silas was whining pitifully into his brother's mouth. The dosage may have been a little strong, since he weighed less than Leon. A minor hiccup. Simmons felt his own cock stir as he watched Leon give in. The elder Kennedy was still tensed up, but he wasn't pushing Silas away, seemingly entranced by the kissing. His hands were still shaking where they tangled in long, dark hair. 

That was an issue that needed to be addressed. If these two were to be perfect twins, their hair would have to be fussed with. Simmons preferred Leon's natural hair color, a soft, tawny blond that made him appear even more airheaded. The agent's stupid naivety was only magnified by the sweet "boy next door" look that his curtained bangs enforced. That was how he drew people in so easily. That was how he'd drawn _Simmons_ in so easily.

"Please, Le, please, I can't- I c-" Silas was moaning openly now, his cock leaving a trail of precum across Leon's thigh. Every noise that spilled out of him was muffled, hidden by his brother's tongue. To Simmons' absolute, utter delight, he got to watch them give in. He saw the exact moment when Leon broke, when his hand strayed until it could slip around his brother's cock. They were desperate for it, aching to get off no matter how depraved it was. Silas' head dropped down when they managed to fit their hips together. He mouthed at the gunshot scar on Leon's shoulder, worshipping it as they writhed.

Simmons unbuckled his belt, reaching into his slacks and taking his own cock in hand when he saw Leon accommodate his own arousal and fuck into his fist alongside Silas. They were a wreck of muted moans and desperate pleas, begging each other for forgiveness and permission all at once. It didn't last long, not with how their blood boiled from the drugs. Silas orgasmed first, coating his brother's cock in sticky semen. Leon kissed him to swallow down the noise he made, kept private from a lustful state and eager ears. Simmons let him get away with it just this once. 

He paced himself, watching intently as the elder Kennedy got himself off. It was so rewarding to finally have the object of his desires safe in the palm of his hand- and in duplicate, too. The effort was all worth it when Silas lazily brushed his fingers over his brother's cock, smearing cum between them. He whispered something, and whatever it was made Leon seize up and moan, semen oozing out of him to cover his knuckles.

Simmons cussed under his breath. He wanted to have them both then and there, but the aphrodisiacs would wear off soon and if he was caught with his pants down- literally- he didn't doubt that the two would overpower him. Later, he would alter the dosage so that it would last longer and keep them drowsy and compliant while he played. As he watched, the two sagged into a lazy embrace, exhausted and humiliated. He allowed them to settle down on the dog bed, huddled together for warmth and protection. Silas' head was tucked neatly under his brother's chin, and when they closed their eyes and relaxed, they looked decidedly innocent. Like a pair of cherubs, dozing beside Simmons as he worked.

He was going to enjoy this immensely, perhaps even more than he'd imagined.


	4. The Ordeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some serious non-con happens in this chapter. Please heed the tags

Something solid and metallic tapped against the bars of their cell, startling Leon from the half-dozing sleep he'd managed to settle into. He groaned as Silas moved, his hands pressing gently against his brother's stomach as he climbed off the cot.

"Sai?" The nickname slipped out before he could stop it, tumbling from sleepy lips. Turning bleary eyes towards the front of the cell, he watched his brother scramble over to kneel at Simmons' feet. A wave of revulsion washed over him when their captor pulled his cock out, stuffing it through the bars. Without hesitation, Silas took it in his mouth, sliding towards the cold metal barrier. Leon felt a burst of anger rise up after the disgust settled. Whatever had been done to Silas had obviously been effective, making him sickeningly compliant in the sex games their captor had concocted.

"Leon." Simmons called, pointing to the ground beside him. His smile only grew at the disgusted look he received. Looking the elder Kennedy dead in the eye, he reached through the bars and forced the entire length of his cock into Silas' throat. Panicked retching filled the room, making Leon wince and tense up. He clenched his hands into fists as he walked over, kneeling down beside his brother. He avoided Simmons' gaze as much as he could, his cheeks burning with anger and humiliation. Silas coughed weakly when he was released, his hand automatically shooting out to grab onto Leon's arm. 

"I want both of you to work together." Simmons said. "Think of it as a bonding experience."

"You're sick." Leon hissed. He flinched when Silas yelled out, punished for his brother's words. 

"The more you stall, the more poor Silas suffers." Simmons twisted his wrist, yanking on soft locks of the younger twins' hair. He guided Leon with his other hand, coaxing him into tentatively licking at the head of his cock. "Why don't you show your brother how committed you are to his safety?" 

The menacing tone made the anger festering in Leon's chest burn even hotter, but he obeyed, eyebrows furrowing as he allowed Simmons to pull him in and gently fuck his throat. He retched after a particularly sharp thrust, coughing when he managed to pull back and gasp for air. Simmons didn't seem impressed, scoffing under his breath.

"Neither of you are quite as talented as I'd hoped, but I believe we can fix that with a little bit of work, don't you think?" 

Leon didn't dare respond, biting down on the inside of his cheek. He pressed his lips into a thin line as Simmons' cock rubbed up against his mouth.

"I want you to open your mouth and wait." 

After hesitating for a moment too long, Leon's head was yanked sideways by his hair. He grunted in pain, sneering up at his captor before begrudgingly opening his mouth.

"Good." Simmons praised. "Good boy. Now you," he nodded to Silas. "Mirror him. Kiss your brother good morning."

Silas shivered, but obeyed. His hands shook as he steadied himself, leaning in to kiss Leon and trap the head of Simmons' cock between their lips. His reluctance spoke volumes, but so did the way he sighed at the contact. Relief. Familiar territory. 

Leon frowned, but kept kissing, admittedly comforted by the touch as well. It was disturbing. Almost as much as the cock sliding between them. Simmons was enjoying the heat of their mouths, forcing them to give him a dual blowjob in order to maintain their sinful contact. Even though he wanted to, Leon couldn't pull away. The thought of this- this incestuous embrace- made him want to distance himself until he could get his head screwed on straight, but in the moment, with Silas' hand creeping up his thigh, he couldn't stop it. 

He groaned when his hair was yanked on, tilting his head back at a harsh angle. Something sharp jammed into his neck, panic spiking through his veins along with whatever he was being injected with. Silas yelled out beside him as he was given the same treatment.

"I think I have the dosage figured out." Simmons said, petting each of the twins' bangs until they laid flat. "We are going to have a very fun day."

Leon trembled, partially from the arousal he could feel building between his legs, and partially from anger. He would give almost anything to get his hands around Simmons' throat. 

"Come on, again." 

Silas looked at his brother with big, pleading eyes, nearly crawling into his lap. His hands were more insistent, hovering over Leon's stomach and just barely touching the skin there. He grew a little bolder as they fell back into their rhythm of sloppily making out, skating up to his twin's shoulders and chest. The touch was feather-light, leaving goosebumps in its wake and sending blood rushing southward. Leon wanted to bat him away, but his own hands lingered, finding the soft curve of Silas' hips. 

"He's handsome, isn't he, Silas?" Simmons cooed. "Did you ever dream that you'd be able to touch him like this?"

Leon opened his mouth to protest, but Silas pulled him into a hard kiss, smothering any nasty remarks. They fought for a bit, but eventually, Leon gave in, letting his brother lap at his bottom lip around the intrusion of Simmons' cock.

"I expect," The greasy, old man panted. "To see you playing with each other more often." His fingers wound tight in Leon's hair, pulling him backwards. His other hand slid to his cock, jerking himself off rapidly before cumming in messy spurts across the elder Kennedy's face. It stuck in his eyelashes and his bangs, streaking across his nose. 

Leon snarled angrily, falling backwards in shock. He didn't have anything to wipe the semen up with, grinding his teeth as he resigned to letting it dry. The door clicked open, diverting his attention. Simmons pointed towards their cot, smiling when Silas scampered over and perched on it. He was less gentle with Leon, using his hair like a leash. For how much the bastard seemed to like touching it, he sure wasn't gentle. He was directed up and into Silas' lap, where Simmons handcuffed his wrists behind his back. Someone else came into the cell, their boots heavy on the cement. They helped secure the brothers together, tying Leon's ankles to his thighs so that he couldn't lift himself upwards. Silas was merely tied down to the cot, his meager disposition allowing him more freedom. 

Of course, Simmons added a few personal touches. He wound rope around the delicate column of Leon's throat before tying it to a loop in the wall, forcing him to keep his posture straight or risk choking. He also produced a long, thin vibrator, tying it to Silas' cock. His full intentions became clear when Leon felt the other end of the rope wind around his own- admittedly leaking with arousal- erection. He groaned loudly when it was turned on, buzzing mercilessly against his glans. Silas squirmed beneath him, tugging on the bondage and sending horrible pleasure racing up his spine.

"Sai, please- don't- stay still!" Leon begged, fighting to keep his head up. He moaned helplessly when lube was smeared over his hole. Simmons pushed two fingers into him, crooking them deviously. 

"I promised my men that they could have some stress relief." He cooed. "I hope you can last that long. I know you're an insatiable little skank, but even the most practiced whores have their limits." 

"I hate you." Leon puffed, groaning as Silas bucked his hips. The movement tugged on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic little moan. "Sai!" He begged, voice straining when he moved too much and pulled on the makeshift noose. 

"S-Sorry!" Silas whined. "Leon- oh!" He shuddered bodily. The drugs were still far too potent for his malnourished frame, driving him downright insane with need. His eyes were fixed on his brother, pupils blown wide. There was no longer that edge of guilt beneath the hunger in his stare. Leon gasped when Simmons roughly scissored him, making him jerk and pull on the vibe himself. He groaned out an apology, the aphrodisiac pumping just as ferociously through his blood. Even the rough rope digging into his throat began to feel good, scratching at sensitive skin. It cut off his air a little when he slouched or arched his back, and the high that the mild asphyxiation produced was wonderful.

Abruptly, Simmons slapped him on the ass, making both of them moan and struggle within their bondage. They didn't notice him walk away, nor did they recognize the sound of new, heavier steps that seemed to fill up the room. It wasn't until a large, warm hand gripped Leon's hip that he registered the extra company.

"No-" he began to protest, stopped by the feeling of hot, blunt pressure on his hole. The moan he let out when the first few inches forced their way inside of him was undignified and undeniably whorish. Silas groaned in response, pushing forward. He could just barely reach his brother, catching him in a hungry kiss to swallow up the noises he made. 

"Sai-" Leon moaned. He couldn't keep quiet, not with the way his body was singing, every nerve on fire. The flames licked at his core, his cock jumping excitedly as it rubbed against the vibe. Everything was too much and not enough. It took the pain of Simmons' lackey hilting himself to make him cum, his body giving in to the horrible buzz between his legs while Silas worried his bottom lip between gentle teeth. Leon was suddenly reminded of the WilPharma lab- when he'd jumped into the water tanks to escape the purge. The sensation of drowning, of the air leaving his lungs, it bubbled up in his chest as he sagged in his bonds. There was too much- too much pleasure, pain, sensation of any kind. The buzz of the vibe, the knock of sweaty hips against his ass, Silas' mouth against his. 

"Leon! Leon!" Silas was nudging him, rubbing their faces together in a desperate plea for his attention. He was panicking at the way his brother slouched, neck caught in the vicious loops of jute.

Leon croaked, jerking his head upwards when no air made it into his screaming lungs. His legs trembled, overwhelmed by the vibration pinned between his legs. At some point, Silas had orgasmed as well, leaving a sticky mess between them. It only made the hot friction between their cocks more intense. Leon had the misfortune of being caught between a rock and a hard place, the overstimulation exacerbated by the way Simmons' guards were fucking him. They were brutal and unrestrained, squeezing his hips until they bruised before moving upwards to paw at his chest. 

Being manhandled and treated roughly was one of his biggest kinks- though he'd never admit it. The people he'd fallen in bed with had always treated him delicately. Having his fantasies acted upon only made his blood run hotter, lowering his inhibitions. At least, that was what he convinced himself later when he reflected on how desperately he'd whimpered and whined, pitching up into a full blown pornstar moan when one man bit down on his shoulder. Silas bristled beneath him, apparently feeling territorial. He leaned forward, lapping at the old scar on Leon's shoulder before taking the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucking. Determined to leave his own mark, he let his teeth graze the scar tissue.

"Sai!" Leon gasped. He was beyond overwhelmed as he tumbled into his second orgasm. Sticky and shaking, he leaned into Silas' next kiss to distract himself, indulging in the warm slide of his brother's tongue. Distantly, he heard the men behind him mocking them, calling them names. It was difficult to care when he was so focused on _feeling_ all the different sensations. The aphrodisiac numbed his sense of shame almost completely. Perhaps that meant Simmons was right and he really was a dumb whore. 

They lost all sense of time while trying to appease the relentless chemicals, caught in a loop of grinding and making out. Leon couldn't keep track of how many times he orgasmed, eventually cumming dry and experiencing a whole new height of sweet pain. He was covered in bruises and scratches, the guards pinching and slapping him as they pleased. Deep inside of his brain, he was grateful that Silas had been spared from the same treatment. 

When the last of Simmons' men had taken their fill, they cut the twins loose, pushing them into a sweaty, sticky heap on the cot. Both men moaned and squirmed when the vibe was removed, suddenly offended by the lack of stimulation.  
From outside the cell, Simmons watched with a wicked smile on his face as the two resorted to grinding and humping each other, their movements growing lazy as they slipped into unconsciousness.

What a perfect pair of pets he had.


	5. The Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after much introspection, I've decided to keep working on this fic out of spite

It was like swimming, like pushing his way through a veil in order to reach his own thoughts. Every movement, every uttered syllable, took conscious effort. Leon was _vulnerable._ More vulnerable than he'd ever been. That was how Simmons liked to keep him, drugged up and docile, too weak to snarl and bite as he was pet and played with. Greasy fingers combed through his hair without resistance, reminding him of how completely and utterly _owned_ he was. Nothing more than a plaything, something to be used and abused until Simmons grew tired of him and tossed him away like garbage. He just prayed that Silas wouldn't suffer the same fate. It didn't seem likely, not with how meek and obedient his brother was. Leon was being kept quiet with drugs, whereas his twin was naturally submissive. It was no wonder that Simmons was so obsessed with the idea of them being his pets. 

Silas had to work hard to protect his older brother, especially when he was woozy and unsteady. Leon could barely walk, nevermind suck cock in the coordinated manner that Simmons demanded. Often, Silas would guide him through it, hands on his brother's cheeks as they sloppily made out. Kissing was easy, it was safe. They could lay on their cushion and make out all day without issue. The problems arose when Simmons began to demand that Silas edge his brother, going so far as to lock them into matching cock rings. They were instrumental in each other's arousal, and the old pervert knew it. Leon couldn't help that his body writhed to meet his brother's touches, he was barely conscious of the way he begged for more. 

"Sai." He moaned, pushing his cock into the circle of shaking hands. "Please, just a little more, please!" He knew it was fruitless, that the ring sitting happily around the base of his cock would stop him from ever reaching his climax, but he had to try. Silas' hands were so firm, slick with precum as he stroked and twisted the length of it until he was ordered to stop.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, obediently sitting back on his heels as his brother moaned and thrust up against empty air.

"Good pet." Simmons cooed, running his fingers through long, tangled black hair. "So good for your brother, making him so hard and needy." He knelt down, scooping up a bead of precum with the tip of his finger. Leon moaned at the touch, his cock twitching and desperate. He refused to plead with the madman, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but his balls were throbbing and swollen, his cock turning a deep red to match. He'd been edged over and over by his brother's hand, caught in the spider's web by the drugs coursing through his body. He was made of goo, pliant and easy as he drifted through clouds of desire. He could barely squirm enough to draw attention to himself, much less fight against his bondage. From day one, it had been his plan to escape, but drugged and bound as he was, that wasn't likely.

"Up we go." Simmons said, hefting Leon into his arms. He'd resorted to carrying the elder Kennedy after it became apparent that administering such extreme doses of his personal aphrodisiac-sedative cocktail left his victim quite immobile. There wasn't a viable way to make Leon walk when both of his heads were up in the clouds. Silas became even more submissive when he saw his brother so compromised, always hovering around and begging to touch. He needed the physical contact to reassure himself that Simmons hadn't done anything permanent… yet. 

Leon swayed in his captor's grasp, head lolling and eyes threatening to fall shut. He couldn't tell if he was more eager for sleep or an orgasm, the wires in his brain crossed and tangled. Either way, his body craved Silas' touch, wanting the warmth of his baby brother to soothe the anxiety hiding beneath the drugs. Luckily for him, Simmons was feeling generous, and he was set down on the cushy pillow that marked their space inside their captor's luxurious office. Leon groaned, grateful for the padding after spending the last hour squirming on the cement in their cell. Warm hands crept up his body, and Silas nuzzled in as close as possible. 

"Le?" He whispered. He sounded like he was close to tears.

"Hm?" Leon grunted, turning his head and burying his face in his brother's messy hair.

"Do you… Do you know what he's doing?"

"No."

"He wants to make us identical, perfect copies of each other. Before he captured you, he'd call me 'Leon', and he kept talking about how long he'd been waiting to get his hands on you." Silas tilted his head up, desperate to really get through to his brother. "I was going to. I was going to- to be you because I didn't know what else…" his voice wobbled dangerously. "What else would keep him from killing me."

"Sai…" Leon murmured, fighting a little harder against the exhaustion. His eyes barely fluttered open, but he made the effort to look down. "Whatever we have to do, I don't ever want to be apart from you again."

"I'm scared!" Silas insisted. "He wants us to be a matched set so that he can flaunt us like- like toys!"

"Hush!" Simmons snapped, interrupting them. "Stay quiet or I'll find my own use for your mouth."

Silas wiped at his eyes before leaning in and kissing Leon. There was a lot of desperation hidden in the way their lips moved, silent promises made with the tips of their tongues. 

"It's okay." Leon breathed, as quiet as possible. "Just stay with me." He felt himself drift off as his brother huddled closer.

Later, he was awoken when the temperature shifted, dousing his body in cold air. Goosebumps erupted across his chest, and he tensed up.

"Huh?" His voice was drowsy and slurred. Silas was gone, no longer safely tucked under his chin. Turning his head, he tried to force open his eyes. The room was rather bright, and it took a moment, but when he finally adjusted, he began to pick out more details. He was tied down to a chair, a smock fastened around his neck. To his left, there was another chair, where Silas was sitting, fidgeting as he watched his brother come around. Leon weakly tugged on the rope around his wrists.

"What's he doing?" He asked, finding his mouth horribly dry.

"Making us look the same." Silas whispered. He had his knees tucked up to his chest beneath his smock, his eyes dull and unfocused. Leon remembered all the times in high school that he'd seen that look. 

"Hey," he said. "Hey, it's alright. Sai, stay with me." 

"He's fucking crazy!" Silas sobbed, hiding his eyes in his hands. "What else is he gonna do? If he's capable of this, then what-"

"Silas!" Leon hissed. "Look at me, it's okay, you're fine. I'm an aide to the president, the government can't let me disappear. I know too much. They'll be looking for me, for us. I need you to stay strong for me until then. Can you do that?" 

"Y-Yeah." Silas sniffled, wiping his eyes. He suddenly moved, climbing out of his chair and into his brother's lap. His hands shook as he stroked Leon's hair. "I get so scared when you pass out." He was choked up all over again by the time he finished the sentence. "What would I do without you?" 

"I'm fine." Leon said. "Relax, it's gonna be okay." He leaned into his brother's hands, enjoying the petting. "He won't hurt us, he wouldn't dare."

"He already is!" Silas pressed their foreheads together. "Please, please just do what he says, I'm so scared that he's going to really hurt you. Promise me, Leon."

"I promise." 

"I love you." Silas let out a deep sigh, obviously quite frayed around the edges. He leaned in for a kiss, one hand straying to rub over the swell of his brother's chest. "I've always loved you."

"I love you too, Sai." Leon felt something stir within him at the touch, his cock still trapped inside the ring. "You know we can't do this, we can't-"

"I know, but… but ever since I was a kid, I wanted to. I always got so jealous when you'd bring home a new boyfriend and I- I'm sorry, Leon, I've always wanted to have you to myself." Silas looked ready to cry again, his misery undoubtedly made worse by the genuine shock on his brother's face. "I always knew it was bad, but I couldn't help it, and when- when you disappeared after Raccoon, I panicked. Now, I have you again and I can't let you go, I can't lose this chance."

"Sai…" Leon sighed. "I thought someone had hurt you, or that I'd scared you off by suddenly going g-man. I never…" he trailed off. "We can't. I love you, I do, but we can't. You understand that, right?"

Silas was about to respond when the door opened, startling him out of his brother's lap and back into his seat with a guilty look. Simmons strode into the room, arms crossed.

"Well," he said. "Isn't that an interesting development? The Kennedy twins, inseparable indeed." Waking closer, he glanced between them. "Silas has told me about quite a few of his fantasies, about how he used to crawl into big brother's bed at night uninvited. He swore it never went any farther, but is that true, Leon?"

"What? Yes!" 

"Are you sure?" Simmons ignored the bared teeth and angry eyes flashed at him by the elder Kennedy. He was picking at a gap in their armor, trying to wedge his way between them. 

"You don't have any idea what you're talking about." Leon snapped. He stiffened up when a stranger entered behind their captor, carrying a bucket of supplies. She seemed startlingly human as she wet his hair with a spray bottle. He'd gotten enough haircuts to know what was coming. He attempted to glance over and check on Silas, but the woman tsked at him and pushed his head back towards Simmons. Her scissors _snicked!_ beside his ear, trimming the soft, shaggy bits that he'd neglected for a few weeks. They moved to his bangs next, slicing away split ends and the extra length that had brushed his cheeks. 

Leon stared Simmons down as he was mussed with. It wasn't enough that the man kept them drugged and hazy, rife with arousal and unable to do anything about it. No, he had to treat them as if they were dolls to really drive the humiliation home. The scissors flashed in his vision, ever so briefly, and continued around his head. He was sure that his death glare looked more like a pout when his bangs flopped across his face, but it was better than doing nothing.

The sharp, acrid smell of bleach reached his nostrils, and without his permission, his eyes widened. Simmons was making good on his word, then. Leon had done his best with the bottle of dye he'd bought from a drugstore near his apartment, but the Security Advisor had done nothing but mock the dark chestnut hue. He'd been correct in his assumption that the color change was a desperate ploy to get out of the teasing about his natural "pretty boy blond" style. 

Leon grunted when the burning chemicals reached his scalp. It stung, almost painfully so. His scowl didn't lessen as more bleach was rubbed into his hair. The burn never went away, and with his bangs so close to his eyes, involuntary tears were beginning to spring up. Beside him, Silas suddenly whimpered, drawing his attention. The hairdresser had moved onto him, pulling his long, raven black locks into a neat ponytail. He'd always had such beautiful hair, combed daily by their mother as she prepared them for bed. Silas had kept it long in her honor. 

With one sharp motion, it was gone, falling to the ground in a heap. The ponytail fell free on its own, the remaining hair too short and choppy to hold the hair tie in place. Silas began to cry as the stylist sprayed him with the squirt bottle, wetting down his hair in preparation to cut it even shorter. Leon was beginning to understand. 

"You're a fucking psychopath." He spat at his former boss, his hands clenching up in their bonds. More than anything, he wanted to get his hands around the bastard's throat.

"Perhaps." Simmons smirked at him. "But I'm a psychopath with two pretty little fuck toys, now aren't I?"

Leon lunged forward in his chair, snarling as he was stopped short by the ropes. 

"I'll kill you!"

"Now, now, settle down. You're scaring poor Silas."

The younger Kennedy was sniffling, his eyes wide and dull as the scissors moved in circles around his head. Slowly but surely, his hair was being cut to match his brother's. Leon fidgeted hopelessly, panic welling up in his chest. He was so scared of losing Silas, terrified that the constant abuse and manipulation would crumble what was left of his baby brother. He was supposed to _protect him, dammit!_ It wasn't fair that he was kept drugged and tied. He deserved a chance to fight for his twin. 

Panicked blue eyes met his gaze, full of tears as the bleach smell grew stronger.

"Don't do this." Leon begged. "Please, just leave him alone, you already have me-"

"Hah!" Simmons laughed, tipping his head back. "Why would I do that? Two is always better than one, especially when it comes to insolent, bratty, little agents." He moved closer, caressing Leon's chin. Teeth snapped at his fingers, and in response, he moved with blinding speed, slapping the absolute _daylights_ out of his captive.

"No!" Silas cried. He had his hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his weeping. The hairdresser didn't seem fazed, still dutifully working the bleach into Silas' hair. By the time she finished, there was a large, red welt on Leon's face. He huffed and glared as she tipped his head backwards into a basin, using her hands to work water through his hair and rinse out the bleach. Even before the last of it was swirling the drain, he could feel the rubbery roughness, the damage from the harsh chemicals. The hairdresser barely acknowledged his grumbling, working some sort of conditioner through his hair before rinsing it out once more. Lastly, she combed and blow-dried him, making his bangs puff out like the whiskers on an angry kitten. Silas got the same treatment, though his lack of griping made it considerably easier.

In the end, they were identical in a way that they hadn't been since infancy. It was startling, upsetting in a unique way. Leon felt his hands tremble as he looked at his brother. 

If they ever made it out of this, the government would be paying for a _hell_ of a lot of therapy.


	6. The Consequence

It should be a sin, he thought, that their bodies fit so well together. Silas was perfect on top of him, whining his name over and over as he buried his cock into the welcome warmth of his brother's body. Leon could only wrap his legs around stuttering hips and guide him, his hands tied to a rusty iron loop in the floor.

"Harder." He begged. "Sai, please!" He was close, his cock throbbing between his legs. For once, he was free to cum as much as he wanted, the torturous ring hidden away. He planned to take full advantage, moving his hips in an attempt to fuck himself more thoroughly on his brother's cock. Needy, claiming kisses devoured him, stealing away his breath as he barreled through his orgasm. His cock twitched as it spilt cum across his stomach, already itching for another round. Every movement ground his prostate into mush, sending heat racing up his spine. Adding to the desire to give in completely, his limbs were heavy and sluggish, weighed down by the drugs Simmons had fed him. It wasn't nearly as much as the usual dose, but Leon still couldn't quite clear the fog from his brain.

"Leon!" Silas was moaning his name, grabbing his hips with bruising pressure. He was out of breath, overwhelmed with the feeling of finally being granted his greatest adolescent wish, which was to be instrumental in his brother's ecstasy. Every time he'd listened to Leon not-so-sneakily jack off under the covers, he'd been quick to follow, covering his mouth to keep quiet. 

Under duress, with Simmons quite literally holding him by the balls, Silas had confessed all of it with tears streaming down his face. Afterwards, despite the awkwardness, he had crawled in close and continued to weep with his face buried in Leon's chest. 

"I love you." He whispered, his hips still grinding against the swell of his brother's ass. "I love you, Leon." With a sharp gasp, he pushed his cock in as deep as it would go, moaning as he ejaculated. It was wet and filthy, leaking out around him as he ever so gently withdrew. Silas collapsed over top of his brother, hands wandering over the skin of his waist and hips. There were already marks there, little bruises where his fingers had dug in too deeply. They sat on Leon's skin like wine-colored stains of affection, telling tales of desperation and lust. 

Their brief moment of peace didn't last long.

Whenever Simmons returned them to their cells, allowing them time to rest, the dams broke. Silas would cry and cry, clinging to Leon with all the strength left in his frail body. He'd beg his brother for forgiveness, huddling close for warmth and comfort. The haircuts had been the last straw, really and truly pushing him over the edge. Leon was terrified that his baby brother would never be the same again. He did his best to stay strong and give Silas the attention he needed, but his own mental health was quickly deteriorating, ruined by the contrast between Simmons' molestation and his brother's love. 

It was ironic, he thought, that for once, BOWs were the furthest thing from his mind. 

That night, after Silas had gone to sleep, it all fell apart on him. Leon cried- quietly, so as not to wake his brother. He let the tears run down his face, soaking his cheeks. It had been a long time since he'd let himself break down, usually saturating himself with alcohol before he got to the point of needing to acknowledge the wave of despair coiled beneath his stomach. It never went away, not really, but he could usually stamp it down with his dark humor and penchant for whiskey. Not this time. Not with his baby brother's cum drying between his thighs. 

It took him a long time to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling and doing his best to keep his breathing calm. It happened eventually, though, when his cheeks were sticky with dried tears.

He woke up to a soft whisper of his name. Leon wiped his face before rolling onto his side and opening his eyes. Immediately, he tumbled off the bed, running over to his brother's side. Silas had cut his face and neck, carving into them with the sharpened end of a toothbrush. Blood was cascading down his face and chest, matted in his bangs and smeared across his collar

"Silas!" Leon gasped. "No-"

"Now he can't." Silas smiled, trembling all over. His eyes were wide and eerily white in a sea of sanguine. "He can't ever make us the same."

Leon shook his head in disbelief, pulling his brother into his arms. "Just relax, it's gonna be okay." He glanced around frantically, wondering if their captor had any idea what was happening. He had to, right? There was no way he'd leave them truly unattended. Sure enough, he heard approaching footsteps after a moment. He was reluctant to admit that his shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of Simmons and his men.

"Please-!" He begged, his heart jumping into his throat and choking him up. There was _so much_ blood, dripping off of Silas and staining everything it touched. Leon broke down, trembling as the guards came in and wrestled his brother from his arms. He didn't fight much, and he probably couldn't have, even if he had the strength. Medically, he was in shock, sitting on the floor in stunned silence while the men loaded Silas onto a stretcher. 

Simmons stayed behind, watching. He didn't move for a long while, eyes locked onto Leon's frame, detailing every hitching breath and unbidden tear. No words were spoken, both men waiting for the other to make a move. The silence stretched on, starting as a cold feeling in Leon's stomach and morphing into white hot anger.

"You fucking bastard!" He launched himself at the bars of his cell, slamming his fists against them. "You did this! You broke him! He's fucking _broken._ " Stopping to catch his breath, he slumped forward and hung his head. "If you weren't so fucking greedy- you could've left him out of this, it should've…" Leon trailed off into quiet sobs, covering his eyes with one hand. "It should've been me." 

Simmons never stopped staring. There was a disgusting air of victory about him, as if this was what he'd been waiting for. He stepped up to the bars, reaching between them and cupping Leon's cheek. When met with no resistance, he smiled. 

"Don't you see? I knew you wouldn't give in easily, so I had to get creative. Stubborn little brats need to be forced into submission, and the best way to do that is to appeal to that bleeding heart that makes you so _useless_ as an agent." His fingers tightened around Leon's jaw and forced his head up. "Always picking up strays on your missions and trying so desperately to _save them._ No wonder you always come home with casualties. That won't be happening anymore, however. I'll keep you so drugged up that you can barely move. You'll waste away in this cell, only useful for sucking cock and sponging up the cum of strangers. Ever since Benford dragged you out of the wreckage of Raccoon City, I've wanted to fucking ruin you, and I finally did it."

He stepped away, taking a long breath. 

"I've waited long enough."

Leon sat in stunned silence as his captor stormed off, leaving him in a disorganized heap on the floor. He groped for the bars of his cell, desperately clinging to them as he tried to control his emotions. His whole body shook and shivered with adrenaline, angry and horrified all at once. He was terrified that Silas had damaged something vital, that his brother had managed to _kill_ himself. Leon felt his chest constrict at the very thought. He'd never considered being _alone_ before, never had the thought of losing his twin cross his mind. He was usually by himself, sure, but this was a different kind of alienation. It had always been a blessing that Silas wasn't around to get caught in the government's web, at least that was what he'd told himself. The whiplash of his brother being dragged head first into his affairs and then so brutally maiming himself was beyond dizzying. If Leon lost the last remaining bit of his family, he'd crack like an egg. Silas was all he had. 

Dragging himself away from the bars was a struggle, but he managed it, climbing into their bed and hugging the lone pillow to his chest. For now, all he could do was wait and hope that Simmons deigned to give him an update on his brother.

It was torture, sitting all alone inside his cell. The hours stretched on, tormenting him as he tossed and turned, desperate for any form of relief from the awful, gnawing anxiety that plagued him. Nothing helped. Not even the food that one of the guards slid in through a small access door. Leon was convinced that Simmons was mixing the aphrodisiac into his meals, but he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. Of course, he quickly regretted his decision when he found himself hard and leaking, rutting desperately against the mattress and moaning Silas' name into his pillow. The touch of his own hand wasn't enough to quell the burning want from the drugs, he needed someone else to satisfy him. 

Simmons finally reappeared, walking in on him with three fingers deep inside of his hole, attempting to milk his prostate dry.

"Fucking whore." The security advisor spat, letting himself into the cell. He walked over, yanking Leon's hands away and manhandling him until he was face down, ass up on the floor. The agent's body hardly protested as he was pulled this way and that, put on display for his captor. Simmons spanked him on the left flank before feeding his hungry body with the length of his cock. He snarled more vicious insults as he chased his pleasure, digging his nails in deep and leaving devastating scratches in his wake. Despite himself, Leon enjoyed it, biting down on his wrist to muffle the way he wanted to moan and beg. He was used to Silas, used to clinging to his brother as he orgasmed over and over on his cock, used to being praised and pet, whispered to about how beautiful he was, about how good he felt. This was a mockery of that pleasure, but it was rubbing him at all the right angles and scratching the itch from the drugs.

After that, it just kept happening. Leon would wake up to a tray of cold, stale food, laced with aphrodisiac. He'd eat what little he could stomach before laying in bed and simply _waiting_ for the fog to cloud his brain and chip away at his remaining dignity. Based on his new schedule, he estimated that it had been four days since Silas had cut himself. Ninety-six hours without a word about his condition. He loathed that Simmons had the foresight to remove any other potential weapons from inside his cell. Even the little mirror in the bathroom had been taken down.

Leon paced, when he wasn't desperate for another orgasm. He would wander back and forth, running his hands through his greasy bangs as he tried to plan his way out. There had to be a weakness, a hole in Simmons' defenses that would allow him to slip through and run to the DSO for help. 

There had to be. He just hadn't found it yet.

Simmons came to see him four or five times a week, leaving him reeling from the drugs and _oh_ so vulnerable. He'd crawl to the bathroom, cum drying between his thighs, and fight with the shower faucet until it doused him in cold water. When he had managed to scrub the creepy crawly feeling from his skin, he'd go back to bed and keep the intrusive thoughts at bay by daydreaming about his childhood, about simpler times when he and Silas would spend all day running through the greenbelt behind their house and working on their Cub Scouts badges. He'd give anything to relive those memories, to be so carefree and happy again. The calm before the storm, the blissful ignorance, that was what he craved. 

He'd always promised his parents that he'd take care of Silas, that he'd keep him safe. In his youth, that had simply meant keeping his twig of a brother away from the mosquito ponds and out of the path of the bigger, meaner kids. Never in his life had he imagined partaking in something so taboo- the urgency behind their unholy kisses, the greediness of their hands, all of it- it was such a disillusioned proclamation of love, and he knew it was dangerous. Leon was supposed to be the strong one, but that was hard to do when every instinct screamed at him to roll over and beg for his brother's cock. 

He'd failed his mom and dad. Wherever they were- presumably in heaven, though Leon had long abandoned any and all stock in religion- he knew they were disappointed in him. Simmons was refusing to update Leon on his brother's condition, which seemed to imply that the younger Kennedy was either deceased or horribly maimed. In truth, the lack of communication was unsurprising. The mental anguish just added another layer of torture to his captor's already brutal psychological warfare. Leon resigned himself to wallowing in his self pity until he wasted away, alone and naked in his cell.

He wasn't lucky enough for death, not by a longshot.

Instead, Simmons returned, shoving his cock into Leon's ass until he squawked, legs kicking out at awkward, useless angles. Every thrust was agony, forcing his aching body into the concrete floor and compressing his ribs until he could do nothing more than choke on air. Snarling as he chased his pleasure, Simmons began to detail his struggles, griping about how the BSAA were onto him, about how he'd have to leave, abandoning his work and his home in order to flee north of the border. It was all strung together, nearly nonsense between the flood of derogatory names he was spitting at Leon, but it was enough to light a spark of hope.

That spark burst into a flame when Silas returned, stumbling into the cell with the left side of his head wrapped in bandages. The guards that had escorted him made no move to assist him as he swayed dangerously on his feet. He nearly fell before Leon was able to scramble over and catch him.

"Sai!" He exclaimed, walking him over to the cot. Weak, shaky fingers graced his skin, running over his forearms.

"Le?"

"I'm here." Leon used his fingers to straighten out Silas' hair, fussing over him as much as he dared. "It's alright."

"He left us." Silas whimpered. "He said he'd care for us, but he- he left!" 

"Simmons?" Leon asked. He climbed into bed beside his brother, fingers hovering over the edge of the gauze that guarded untold injuries. "He left?"

"We're alone." With a shiver, the younger Kennedy nestled closer, seeking out his brother's body heat. Leon indulged him, gently lifting the bandages to peer beneath them. The damage was deep and ugly, but it had been stitched up and cleaned, the skin coated in yellow disinfectant. It would hold.

Around them, the facility began to wind down, the lights shutting off and plunging empty hallways into darkness. From what Leon could tell, the whole compound was being decommissioned.

He prayed that the BSAA was well and truly on Simmons' heels. Without food or heat, they were doomed to die of exposure. Leon felt himself begin to shake as the ominous click of the lights dying grew louder and louder. He reached for Silas, holding him close as he prayed to whomever would listen that they wouldn't be left in the dark.

"Leon?" Silas whimpered. He was scared, his hands shaking where they touched his brother's chest.

"Take a deep breath." Leon warned. He grit his teeth. "Stay strong for me."

The light above them snapped ominously as it stifled the last bit of light and suffocated the room in inky blackness.


	7. The Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming on this journey with me. This fic was way out of my comfort zone, but I really enjoyed it, and I learned a lot along the way!

When all was said and done, they still couldn't stop touching each other. Leon would fight with himself every time he got the urge to slide his hand over Silas' lower back, beating himself up over how needy he was. He'd been conditioned to be hypersexual, and going from daily stimulation to self-imposed isolation was incredibly difficult. It only made sense, therefore, that he found another way to scratch the itch that Simmons had given him.

"Shit!" He moaned, tipping his head back and baring his throat. Immediately, wet kisses made their way from his chest to his chin, teasing him while especially thick and talented fingers rubbed his prostate. Leon kept humming in pleasure, legs twitching as he basked in wave after wave of sensation. He couldn't get enough, running his fingers through short, coarse brown hair and tugging to get the hot mouth on his neck to move upwards. Though he'd never been a huge fan of kissing beforehand, Silas' insistence tricked his brain into craving the feeling of someone nibbling at his bottom lip. 

Luckily, Chris was more than happy to indulge him.

It had been nerve-wracking, asking him so explicitly for sex, but Leon had been horribly pent up and needy within a week of regaining his freedom. Silas was still in the hospital, and under his therapist's orders, they were only allowed to visit for a few hours every day. Those hours were filled with a lot of emotional vomit, only barely eased by the way they held each other. That closeness wasn't enough, not when he woke up every morning with an awful, insistent boner that soaked his boxers in pre-cum. He'd tried jerking off, but that wasn't enough. His fingers didn't go far enough, weren't long and unforgiving like Silas'. 

Chris, however, was big and warm, soothing goosebumps with his natural heat while he prepped Leon to take all of his thick, heavy cock. It was heaven, so much bigger than he was used to, but _so good._ That alone made it worth the embarrassment. It was a blessing in disguise that Chris hadn't been part of the team that had retrieved them, that he hadn't seen how filthy and feral the Kennedy twins were. He only got the polished version, the Leon that had scrubbed himself raw in the shower three or four times before he believed himself clean enough to dare approach someone he wanted to impress. 

That was exactly what he did, marching into Chris' office and closing the door behind him.

"Chris, I need a favor." He said. He could tell that he'd startled the BSAA Captain, but soldiered on. "I need… I was conditioned to only think about sex and- and I need someone to help me." 

"You what?"

The look in those big, brown puppy-dog eyes would have been priceless at any other time.

"I need you to fuck me. You're the only- the only one I can trust. Please, Chris." Leon huffed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't stand it anymore, I've tried… everything, and my body still wants it. I need more, I need a real, solid human. Not some silicone." 

"Are you sure you're cleared for this?" Chris asked. He stood up, coming around the desk and forcing Leon to look at him. "I mean, I wasn't told much, but I do know some of what Simmons did to you, and-"

"Chris, he kept me so full of drugs that I could barely move. He would tie me up and- and touch me until I was begging to cum, but I couldn't, and now my body wants it." He was getting more and more distressed, doing his best to explain how badly Simmons had fucked with him but unable to concisely get his point across. With red cheeks, he hung his head. "Just forget it, I'm sorry. It was a dumb thing to-"

"I'll do it." 

"What?" Leon jumped like he'd been struck.

"I've…" Chris trailed off, scratching the back of his head like he was embarrassed. "I've had a crush on you for a long time, Leon. Besides, if I can help you, then I'm not going to turn you away. I promise you that." He took a step closer. "My one request is that I'm allowed to take you out to dinner first." 

Leon stared, eyes wide. He'd been prepared for rejection, for being slapped across the face and thrown out of the BSAA's headquarters. He hadn't expected Chris to simply say yes.

"Deal." He forced out, blinking a few times in order to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "Tonight?"

"Sure. Give me your address, I'll pick you up at six." Chris picked up a pen and paper from his desk, handing them over with a kind smile. Even that small gesture had Leon's libido jumping. He was quick to make his escape after exchanging information, feeling his heart straining in his chest. A date, a real date. He felt anxious, worried that Silas would be angry with him. 

That feeling persisted throughout the date, until Chris called him out on it. It was then that he broke down and spilled the beans about how Simmons had coerced him into being so intimate with his brother. Again, he'd expected Chris to be horrified and want nothing to do with him, but the stubborn bastard stayed, promising Leon that he'd help the two of them however he could. 

That was how they got into their current situation.

Silas has been released from the hospital after two weeks, sent home to live with Leon in his shoddy, government-approved housing. While they were together, the urges were worse, harder to ignore. Leon had slipped up once, in a moment of weakness after a long night of bad dreams and dark thoughts. Silas had crept into his room, sensing his distress, and they'd ended up between the sheets, kissing and grinding in long, slow motions. It felt even worse without the drugs to keep them addled and foggy, their sobriety making them painfully aware of how taboo their entanglement was. However, in the moment, with his brother's hand wrapped around his cock, Leon found it difficult to say no.

After he'd confessed to Silas that he was ~~dating~~ ~~seeing~~ sleeping with Chris, their relationship had changed. It wasn't bad, he wouldn't dare say that, but it was different. He loved his brother more than anything, and Silas knew that, but they couldn't keep going down the incestuous road they'd detoured on. It wouldn't be healthy for either of them. Leon even helped Silas dye his hair back to its natural brown, trying to ease him out of his self-imposed shell. Chris was a blessing in that respect, too. Whenever he came over, he'd take some extra time to hang out with Silas, chatting with him as if he was an old friend. Just like Leon, the younger Kennedy was drawn to Captain Redfield, enamoured by his burly frame and soft, kind face. 

That came to a head when he walked in them mid-fuck, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Leon felt his brother's eyes travel over his naked body, taking in the huge hands on his waist and the way he was stretched around Chris' massive cock. He knew there would be a problem when he saw Silas' mouth water. Oh, he understood how incredibly alluring his ~~boyfriend~~ ~~date~~ partner was, but he worried that fighting over Chris would drive a stake through their relationship, and he couldn't afford that. Not after he'd finally gotten Silas back. Therefore, he hatched a plan, strung together somewhere between the awkwardness of being interrupted and the satisfaction of finally getting his orgasm. 

"Chris?" He gasped, brushing his hair out of his face. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure."

Leon paused as Chris leaned in to kiss him, riding out the last waves of the endorphins they were swimming in. He ran his hands over warm skin, savoring the post-coital intimacy.

"Silas- you know he has a crush on you, right?" He asked. "I think, if you'd be open to it, I wouldn't mind sharing you with him. Only if that's alright, obviously, I know it's a lot and-"

"Leon." Chris shut him up with another quick smooch. "If it'll help, then I'll do it. I don't mind having both Kennedy's wrapped around my finger." He gave a shit-eating grin, earning a slap on the shoulder.

"Shut up." Leon said, pouting at him. "I just hope you've got the stamina for it." 

As it turned out, he did.

Silas was thrilled to be indulged, and though he was shy at first, Chris was calm and patient enough to ride it out. The scar on his face, big and gnarly, was a sore spot, but Leon noted that he grew a little more confident whenever Chris kissed it, making it clear that it wasn't a deterrent. It was the healing he needed. The healing they both needed. It was difficult at times, and it got messy when they fought, but there were few spats that couldn't be resolved with a little affection from their shared lover. Especially when they were both being bratty and Chris took charge.

He'd let one twin sit in the chair at the foot of the bed, under strict instructions not to move or touch, then pound the other into the mattress until their legs trembled. Usually, that was all it took, switching back and forth between them until he'd exhausted all of their libidos. Even though they were usually filthy with sweat and cum, they'd fall into a heap on the bed, the twins sandwiching Chris between them. He was a warm, solid anchor in their lives, something to keep them grounded when the tides of Simmons' ire threatened to drag them out to sea. For that, Leon couldn't have been more grateful.

The repercussions never seemed to end. Simmons had contacts and friends all over, people more than willing to mess with the bureaucrats and derail the DSO's investigation into the charges against the "alleged" kidnapper. It made Leon sick, and he would've given up already, if he hadn't been fighting for Silas' sake. Every lawyer that brushed him off or told him he'd been asking for it were trivial, and he vowed to continue ignoring them, dead set on getting the justice his brother deserved. 

Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way, and the courts ended up dismissing the case, citing a lack of evidence. Leon spent the next week clinging to his sobriety, only stopped from drowning himself in booze by Silas, who kept him focused on other things- mainly Chris. Though it was an awful end to an even more awful ordeal, they could begrudgingly thank Simmons for bringing them back together. Despite it all, Leon knew he would have gone through hell and back for Silas, and he didn't regret it, even if his mind and body were still reeling from the abuse.

When the deliberation ended, they were allowed to bring their parents' scrapbook home, salvaging old pictures and notes from the worn pages. Leon felt some catharsis just from that, and he ended up putting more work into it than he ever had into a mission debrief, even _The Kennedy Report._ It was worth it, especially when they were able to sit down and show off their hard work to Chris, who hung onto every word they said. The scrapbook was stored above the mantle, a place of honor in their apartment. 

Gradually, it became a token of strength, a testament to what he could overcome. The memories were bittersweet, tinged with flames and fury. He knew Silas felt it too. He'd never taken much stock in the belief that twins could feel each other's pain, but after being put through the wringer so thoroughly, he was beginning to see some truth in it. At the very least, Silas understood him better than anyone, even though they'd been separated for so long. Every long look or quiet sigh meant something, and to his brother, his body language was more legible than an open book.

Leon was forever grateful for that, overwhelmed by Silas' support and affection. They were good for each other, as long as Chris kept their more primal needs satisfied. Being alone for so long hadn't been good for him, something he'd only just realized. Now that he was often surrounded by his brother and his partner, it was easier to let himself really and truly relax- he didn't have to be on guard anymore. When the dark thoughts crept up on him, when his brain rebelled and refused to let him rest, he knew he had a safe haven, people he could afford to show his most vulnerable emotions to. 

His brother's love would keep him safe, that much he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Twitter @pointofdespair


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